Rebels without Causes
by Daughters of Debauchery
Summary: Upload: Silvawen Author: GoT & Silvawen :: 5 innocent... well, not so innocent non-students live in a house when 8 significant men move in next door. Who do you pity more? The sex-crazed girls or the sex-crazed boys? Much smutiness ensues....


The New Arrivals

   It was a perfectly normal day. Over the fence the early morning sounds of the two American sisters arguing over what to put on the toast while their housemate was trying to get them to put the spatulas and whisks down could be heard.

   Chrissie stuck her head out of the window to give them her usual morning greeting of 'Shut up you dog snot rags!' This was answered with the traditional reply of 'Go screw a witch hazel bush!'

   Satisfied that life on Evergreen Terrance (Moj had actually had a fit when she had found a '742 Evergreen Terrance' on the market, and she had stayed up all hours of the night behind a fort, constructed of reinforced steel and her and Becca's old socks, banging on pots and pans with a wooden spoon till they had sold the flat they were living in and bought it) was continuing as normal she made her way to the kitchen. As she passed the bathroom the sounds of whimpering and murmured consolations indicated that Clare was trying to talk Loz out of the towel cupboard after she had either 1) been attacked by a pigeon while getting the milk 2) had woken up to find a dirty great spider on her bed or 3) had found a five pound note that hadn't been there last night.

   In the kitchen Moj was still, it seemed, having withdrawal symptoms from having to sell the Playstation 2 after their previous financial crisis. She was sitting at the kitchen table in her pyjamas surrounded by half drunken cups of tea, empty cans of squirty cream, and blocks of cheese with large bite marks in them, muttering to herself.

   "You okay Moj?" Chrissie asked.

   "-thieves! They're filthy little thieves. They stole it from us. Our precious. And we wants it-" Was all Chrissie managed to get out of her, before she went back to wordless muttering.

   While Chrissie was making herself a fried egg, Becca came downstairs, dressed in a surgical apron (though underneath that was her typical fluorescent pink bra and matching hot pants with pink, purple and black stripy knee-high socks) and armed with a litre bottle of fairy liquid, bleach, disinfectant and a cricket bat with a nail through the end.

   "I now march to face the horrors of the sink. It could be that I go to my doom, but it is necessary, for the survival of the house. We shall not last long in this stench, with the possible exception of Moj, who is rather masculine when it comes to these matters." Chrissie nodded mutely. She had absolutely no idea what Becca had just said (though it sounded like she was going to do the two week old washing) and was becoming rather worried by the fact that everyone seemed to be talking…. Funny. There must be something in the water; like that advert for French water with all these sex crazed French people. She hoped a situation like that wasn't going to arise.

~*~*~*~*~

   Once she had managed to talk Loz out of the cupboard Clare was sitting at the table in the kitchen doing the accounts. She was the only one who could be trusted to do so. Loz and Chrissie fiddled with them so they got more spending money, Moj fled in terror at the mention of anything maths related and when you finally got her to sit down and do something she some how managed to turn anything and everything into Pythagoras' theorem, the only piece of maths she could do without having to think about it, and Becca was just a no. A straight forward no.

   Once she had sorted through the chocolate wrappers and a month old half eaten happy meal (she was definitely going to have to have Words, when she'd told the others that they needed to keep a record of their spending she hadn't meant this) she got on with her work, and her face darkened considerably, this was not happy reading and not even the sounds of Becca doing battle with some blue and yellow flashing mould that was determined not to be bleached could distract her.

   "That's it!" She declared suddenly, causing everyone to drop what they were doing and come running, which the exception of Moj, who was still mourning the loss of her beloved console. "We have no money! None! Nada! Nowt! Zip! Zilch! Zero!" She took a deep breath. "We're just going to have to sell the computer."

   "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" This had apparently been just what Moj needed to shake herself out of her depression. Joined by Loz she sprinted to the computer room and both girls flung out their arms to bar the door.

   "You shall not pass!" The both cried.

   "Don't be so dramatic." Clare said, following them, trailing Chrissie and Becca because they knew entertainment when they saw it. "You don't use it for anything constructive, all you do is talk to people you've never met, watch DVD's and download porn."

   "Not the porn! Anything but the porn!"

   "Oh honestly."

   "No! Honestly! We _need_ our porn!" Loz said fervently.

   "It keeps us sane!" Moj stated.

   "You've both been blacklisted from every DIY, musical instrument and toy shop in the country!" Clare stated. "I'd hardly say that was sane."

   "Well, it stops us from going even more doo-lally. Do you really want another incident like the Black Country Museum one?"

   "It's going."

   "YAWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWAWAWAWAAAAAAAAAA!"

   "Oh for goodness sake!" Clare turned to Becca and Chrissie. "Aren't you going to do something about this?"

   "No. I like porn as well." Chrissie stated, arms folded and pouting like a five year old.

   "I need munchies." Becca stated, ambling off back to the kitchen.

~*~*~*~*~

   Miss Sarah Ellit, the Estate Agent, was rather worried. She was stuck in the dreaded house that could never be sold, with eight very obviously insane men, and if she failed to sell this house, she would lose her job. The leader appeared to be the tall, dark-haired, slightly wiffy man by the name of Mr. Dunadan. His two lieutenants, Mr, Greenleaf and Mr. Baggins (well, he said it was Mr. but he looked no more than ten years old). The other three… short people were discussing how large they liked bosoms. The weird bloke with the helmet and the red beard was asking worrying questions about structural integrity and underground rivers. And the old man with the stick and the pointy hat was leering at her, making suggestive comments about everything she said. However, overall they did seem impressed with the house. But, any minute now, they would asked the dreaded question.

   "So, what are the neighbours like?" Mr. Dunadan said. Miss S. Ellit cringed.

   "Well, on the left we have Mrs. Du Boir and Mrs. Witherop. They're widowed sisters."

   "Huh, huh, huh," Mr. Grey leered.

   "They're… um, very community spirited."

   "And what about on the right?" Mr. Greenleaf queried. Miss Ellit gulped.

   "Well, um, over… there, we have… well, it's a sort of… studenthouse."

   "A what?" She sighed.

   "A student house." The three short gentlemen who before weren't interested in the slightest, suddenly found it in them to listen.

   "Oh yes?" Mr. Dunadan said uncertainly.

   "Why only sort of?" Mr. Baggins asked.

   "Well… they aren't exactly students. But the girls have yet to exit a student frame of mind." All eight of them were now fascinated.

   "Girls?" they all repeated as one.

   "Yes. Five of them." 

BOOM! BOOM BOOM!!

   "What the HELL is that?" Mr. Baggins said.

   "… I BELIEVE IN A THING CALLED LOVE…"

   "THE DARKNESS!!" All of the short gentlemen shouted joyfully.

   "They have TASTE!" said one with a high-pitched Scottish accent.

   "GOOD taste," said another with a Mancunian accent. And so they began to have their own little mosh party. Miss S. Ellit grinned. Things were starting to look promising.

~*~*~*~*~

   "…and as you can see, the garden isn't overly spacious, but-"

   "Oh, I'm sure I can do something with it," one of the short gentlemen said looking round eagerly. "Yes, yes, a nice bed of petunias over there and some pansies in the corner-"

   "You can't plant Leggy!" the Scottish man piped up. Mr. Greenleaf promptly slapped him round the back of the head. "I'm only joking."

   "-and some taters over there. And some mushrooms, o' course. Can't be doing without some nice mushrooms." The weird helmeted one started jumping up and down.

   "Good solid earth. Yes, this is good. I'm sure it'll do. For now."

   "Oi, they aren't playing The Darkness anymore," said the Mancunian one. 

   "What is that?" Mr. Baggins asked. Mr. Dunadan peered curiously over the fence to see if he could catch a glimpse of what could be their new neighbours. His mouth fell open and eyes went wide. When he found the ability of movement again, he beckoned his friends urgently.

   "Here, here, HEREHEREHERE!! Quick! You really want to see this!" The other seven ran to the fence. The Hobbits stood on a bench that was perfectly positioned against the fence. They all looked over and all their mouths fell open too.

   They could see into the kitchen and the computer room. Chrissie and Beck were in the kitchen, topless (because it was a hot summer day), doing typical 60's dancing to the 'Shrek' version of 'I'm a Believer'. And we all know what part of the anatomy 60's dancing jiggles. In the computer room, Moj was wrapped protectively round the computer whilst Loz chased Clare around the room with a disgustingly black mop. All three of them, due to fighting had rips and tears on their clothes in inappropriate places. And since Loz never dressed appropriately anyway, _especially_ in the summer, she may as well have been walking round in her undies.

   "Wow…" the Scottish one murmured.

   "Bosoms…" the Mancunian one muttered.

   "Lots of 'em," Mr. Dunadan mumbled.

   "Tsk, men," Miss S. Ellit said disapprovingly.

   Chrissie was busy, happily dancing away with Beck in the kitchen (when she was meant to be aiding the poor girl tackle the washing up) when she spotted eight pairs of eyes looking over the fence.

   "Oi, look girls! We're being watched! Again!" She and Beck looked out of the kitchen window and Loz, Moj and Clare looked out of the computer room window.

   "So we are!" came Moj's voices. Evidently the eyes suddenly realised they'd been spotted and four of them disappeared out of sight. A few seconds later, the panel of the fence behind which the eight pairs of eyes were hiding fell into the girls' garden. They could plainly see eight males watching them, four short ones lying on the floor after falling off some kind of bench.

   "They broke our fence!" Beck said.

   "OH MY GOD! EIGHT MEN!!! THEY'RE GAY!!" Loz's voice squealed excitedly.

   "They must've turned next-door into a YMCA," said Moj.

   "They broke our fence!" Beck said again.

   "They were spying on us!!!" Clare said angrily and disgustedly.

   "Right then. They're not getting away with that." Beck stormed out into the garden. "OI!!!!!"

   The men knew they'd been collared. There was absolutely no point in running away. Plus the scantily pink clad one was headed straight for them, so they'd lost all use of their legs.

   "YOU!!" she yelled.

   "Er… us?" Mr. Greenleaf said tentatively.

   "Yes, you!! What do you think you're playing at?!"

   "Um… we're really sorry, miss…"

   "YOU BROKE OUR FENCE!!!"

   "…what?"

   "I said: YOU BROKE OUR FENCE!!! Are you deaf, man? Look! Have you any idea how long it took us to put that thing up?!?! Well, I'm telling you now, we are NOT putting it up this time. We put it back up the last four times! It's your turn!"

   "…okay?" She paused.

   "Oh well, if you're so willing to do it then there's no point. Hi, I'm Beck." She held out her hand. Mr. Greenleaf shook it very nervously, not removing his eyes from her bosom.

   "Hi breast, I mean, Beck!" the Scottish one said. Beck turned back to the house.

   "You lot!! Come here! Come and meet… er… them!" Clare walked out scowling. Then Loz came running out at top speed in her small red satin night-dress.

   "Are you gay?!?!?!" she squealed excitedly. Clare smacked her round the head.

   "Loz, that is not polite!"

   "Ow. Sorry. Well, are you?" She whacked her again.

   "Pack it in!"

   "Ow. Sorry. Hi, I'm Loz. So, are you gay?" Whack. "OW! Quit it!"

   "Stop being rude."

   "Oh, just because you think it's sick!"

   "No, I don't." She turned back to the awe-struck men. "I'm Clare. I'm the responsible one."

   "What does that make me then?" Loz asked.

   "A slut," said Moj as she walked out in her very (inappropriately) ripped tank top and pyjama bottoms. " 'ello. I'm Moj."

   "I'm Chrissie," she said as she walked out in her black combats and black bra. The first person she laid eyes on was Mr. Baggins and never again was she to look upon another with as much love and adoration as she did upon him. He too felt the spark as their eyes locked. There were fanfares and drum-rolls and shooting stars, choirs of angels, flower petals floating on a gentle breeze. Two souls combined as one in that very moment, leaving both dumbstruck, simply letting love blind them to all but one another. There was no one but them in the world.

   So, after all this, Beck's cry of:

   "OH LOOK AT IT!! AIN'T IT CUTE!! What is it?" as she crooned over the Mancunian one, was somewhat a rude awakening.

   "Hi, I'm Merry," he replied. "Merry Brandybuck."

   "Awwwww, bless!"

   "So, are you lot buying the house then?" Moj asked.

   "Well…" Mr. Dunadan began, "I think we are considering-"

   "YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES!!!!!!!!!!!!" the four short gentlemen yelled. Miss S. Ellit gave a small 'whoop' of delight.

   "Cool," said Chrissie. "So, only one of you have introduced yourself. Who are you?" she directed this question at Mr. Baggins.

   "I'm Frodo Baggins," he replied, blushing.

   "I'm Pippin Took."

   "I'm Sam Gamgee."

   "I am Aragorn."

   "No, you're hot," said Loz, grinning.

   "My name's Gimli, son of Gloin."

   "How you doin'?" Mr. Grey said, in a really bad Joey voice, directed at Clare. She raised an eyebrow.

   "I'm fine, thank you for asking. And that was really bad grammar, you know." Mr. Grey gave up immediately. An answer like that meant she was educated. Educated woman were a lost cause.

   Loz suddenly noticed that there was a very tall person looming near Aragorn. She hadn't even taken note of his being there until now, except for the fact that she'd realised there were eight people watching them. She found herself staring at a torso. So she followed it up to find the face.

   "Hi," she said and looked away. Then her head snapped back up, eyes wide, mouth open.

   "Hi," he said, nervous again about this attention he was receiving. "I'm Legolas." Loz pointed at him with an ET finger.

   "You're… you're… you're… you're… you… you're you…"

   "Yes, I've always been me."

   "N-no… you're… you're… you. You're you…"

   "Loz, you're really making no sense now," said Moj. 

   "M-m-m-moj… moj… m-m-m-mojjy… look!" Moj did exactly the same as Loz. She slowly followed the torso up, grinned at the face, looked away and then her head snapped up again.

   "ELF!!! OH MY GOD!!! ELF!! ELFIE-NESS!!"

"What?" Loz said, momentarily snapping out of her trance at the sound of her nickname, then going back to registering what was happening. "Tall… blonde… blue-eyes… dreamy blue eyes… and… p-p-pointy… pointy! POINTY ELF!! OHMYGOD!! POINTY ELF!!!"

   "Oh God, someone get a paper bag, quick!" Clare said. 

   "Can… can… can I… can I…?" Loz hesitantly reached her hand out and touched Legolas' chest lightly. She jumped as though she'd received an electric shock from him. "ARGH! OH! OH MY!!! I TOUCHED HIM!!! ACK!! OH MY!!!" Then she stopped instantly. "Ahem. Sorry." Then she began hyperventilating. Moj ignored all this as she rounded on the other men.

   "And you must be Hobbits!" Beck squealed excitedly as the four Hobbits nodded.

   "OH! Wow!!! Hobbits!! They're Hobbits!! Hob… Hobby… Hobbits! Hob… Hobbit!! Wow!! Hobbits!!" She was grinning maniacally as she said all this, pinching the Hobbit's cheeks and ruffling their hair. Without letting the smile fade, barely moving her lips, and not taking her eyes off the small men, she leant a little nearer to Moj. "What's a Hobbit?" she whispered. Moj ignored her housemate and carried on going.

   "And you're a dwarf!! And you… I have no idea!"

   "Thank you," Mr. Grey said sarcastically. "That would be wizard."

   "WOW!!! I had no idea there were any of you left!!!!"

   "There aren't," said Aragorn. "Well, he's not the only Elf, but we all the only ones."

   "Not… only… Elf?" Loz said, her words punctuated with hyperventilations.    "…dweamy…"

   "Oh God… she's turning into a five-year old! Oh, this is going to be just like that time with the custard…"

   "Here." Chrissie returned with a paper bag and shoved it roughly and carelessly over Loz's face. She then went back inside (she and Beck had got bored - even she figured you could only stare at hot guys so much) Eventually Loz's breathing levelled again and she was just about able to string two words together as she blatantly stared at Legolas.

   "Well, we should probably leave you to it then," Clare said, grabbing Loz by the hand and forcefully dragging her back towards the house. "It was lovely meeting you. If you move in, don't hesitate to come round if you need anything."

   "We won't!" they all said.

   "You can be sure about that," Pippin yelled.

   "Bye then," Moj said, and she too toodled off back into the house.

   "Um, well then, shall we discuss details?" Miss S. Ellit said excitedly. Not only was she going to keep her job for selling a house, she had sold THE house, and so she would get a pay rise.

   "Uh… yeah, in a minute, we just want to, er, inspect a little more. You know. Survey the property that'll be ours," said Aragorn. "We'll see you inside." Once the woman had disappeared, they all went back to the fence.

   Obviously the CD that was playing was a remix, because it was back on again. This time, the song was Beyoncé - Crazy in Love. No prizes for guessing how the girls were dancing this time round.

~*~*~*~*~

   Two weeks later and two large removal lorries were parked out side 742 and 744 Evergreen Terrace. So not only were there the eight blokes moving in (six of them hotties), there were also nice, strong, muscular removal men lifting heavy furniture and things. Getting all sweaty. You know how it is.

   "I've died and heaven's moved in next door," Loz murmured. "Someone pass me an inhaler because they have taken my breath away…" The others rolled their eyes.

   "If you start singing again I'll decapitate you with a blunt spoon," Moj threatened.

   "Owie… but you have to admit… they are SUPER hot! Especially Legolas!! What do you think, Chris?"

   "Frodo. Frodo. He's mine. Frodo."

   "He was cute. All hobbits are cute. Which one was Pippin again?"

   "The Scottish one," said Moj.

   "Awww, he was ADORABLE! I want him!!

   "Let's adopt hobbits!"

   "Yeah!! I bagsy Pippin!

   "Merry! I want Merry!

   "Frodo's mine!" Chrissie snarled.

   "Hmm… I guess that leaves me with Sam then," said Beck. "Ah well, he's cute and fat. I like him the bestest."

   "That is such bad grammar."

   "Oh shut up, Clare!" Moj said.

   "Aren't you going to come and ogle with us?" Loz asked.

   "I don't ogle," Clare replied.

   "LOOK! LOOK! He's bending over!!"

   "Oooooooooooh," was the communal reply.

   "EEP! There's Legolas!! Ohhh, he's so hot!!" Loz giggled. "I'll help him unwrap his package." Clare whacked her again.

   "Stop it, you disgusting creature!"

   "Ow! Sorry. I'll help lessen his load…" WHACK. "OW! Sorry. But I mean, look, Clare! You can't say he's not hot! Look at him! LOOK!" Clare sighed and went to the window.

   "He's mildly attractive."

   "MILDLY ATTRACTIVE?!?!?!?! OH, THE SACRILEGE!!!!!!!!! Are you fucking BLIND woman?!?!?!?!"

   "Apparently so."

   "Frodo. Frodo. Frodo. Frodo. Frodo. Frodo. Frodo is mine. Frodo. Frodo."

   "Yeah, we get the picture, Chris," said Beck.

   "If anyone touches the Elf, I'll skin you alive and dip you in salt!!"

   "Ow…"

   "Oi! That's one of my threats!" Moj said.

   "Yeah I know, but it's a good threat. Don't worry, I only borrowed it."

~*~*~*~*~

   "Well, I know we're not exactly settled," said Aragorn as they ate a frugal dinner of tinned pineapple on toast and tomato juice, "but what do you think of our new home so far?"

   "Neighbours. Neighbours good. Bosoms. Jiggly bosoms," said Gandalf.

   "I think we'll get to like them just fine," said Pippin.

   "I'd like to get to know them," said Merry, "intimately."

   "Yes, but you'd like to get to know everyone that appears vaguely female intimately," said Frodo. "You tried to jump Legolas in Rivendell."

   "And I still haven't forgotten it," Legolas growled. "Suggesting to Elrond that _I_ was taking advantage of _you_ and not the other way around. You little toerag."

   "Yes, well, we really should try and get to know them," said Frodo.

   "You just want to get into that girl, Chrissie's knickers, don't you? You nasty little pervert!" accused Gimli.

   "No!! I'd never dream of it!"

   "Yes you would!! I can see it in your face! Oh, is the temperature rising in here? Funny how no one else is going red, isn't it?!"

   "Yeah… well…"

   "Just admit it, Frodo, you know we won't let you live it down whether you admit it or not," said Gandalf.

   "Alright, I fancy Chrissie." They others fell about laughing. He folded his arms and sulked.

   "Loz is funny!!" Pippin piped up. Legolas nearly choked on his tomato juice.

   "No. She isn't," he said firmly.

   "Ha!! She fancies you something rotten!!"

   "I have not failed to notice that, Peregrin."

   "Ooooh! Peregrin is it now? Put your handbag away, Leggy!"

   "I've told you not to call me that."

   "What size do you reckon they all are?" Merry said, changing the subject completely.

   "Hmmm… well, they are quite large," said Gandalf.

   "B cups?" suggested Sam.

   "Nah, C cups!" said Pippin.

   "Oooh, C cups," said Aragorn.

   "Well, hopefully we'll be finding out soon," said Merry.

   "We could just ask," said Gimli. "They don't exactly seem the sort of girls who are… discrete. With the exception of the… er, scary one."

   "They're all scary," said Legolas. "Very scary."

   "No, I mean the really scary one."

   "Clare?" said Merry. "Yeah, she's really scary. She could prove a problem in us attaining our goal."

   "Which is?"

   "To shag them!"

   "Oh, alright then."


End file.
